Reversal
by Izzyaro
Summary: Godric is late, and Salazar is not worried. Really, he's not. After all, Godric is more than capable of looking after himself.


**Reversal**

 **Izzyaro**

 **Well, it's been a while since I did one of these. The past few months have been a bit difficult, and I haven't been able to write as much as I'd like. This was written to get me back into writing Salazar and Godric, and is set during the time they were travelling together. I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.**

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Salazar could say with absolute certainty that he was not worried.

Exasperated, yes. Frustrated, maybe. He might even go so far as to admit to a hint of vexation. But he was not worried. Not in the slightest.

Salazar scowled and turned the page of his book. Then he realised he hadn't taken in a word of the last one and turned back again. Damn Godric for being an idiot and managing to distract him without even being in the same building. A whole continent full of idiotic, reckless, hot-headed, stupidly noble master duelists and he managed to end up with the worst of the lot.

A glance out the window showed the silver moon was now high in the night sky, and Salazar dropped his book on the table with a sigh. Godric had promised to be back at sunset, and even taking into his account his ability to get lost on a straight road this degree of tardiness was unusual. Salazar drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, then sighed again and pushed himself upright.

"If you got distracted again I'll hex you so hard you won't be able to even think about women."

Salazar didn't even think about navigating the stairs. A moment of concentration found him appearing silently into the dark street to the side of the inn. He paused a moment to get his bearings, and to remember where Godric had said he was meeting his contact. Of course if Godric had let him come in the first place none of this would be necessary, but no, that would have been much too simple.

Salazar scowled and set off down the dark street. The autumn wind whipped and his hair, and he tugged his cloak around him.

"Damn stubborn idiot."

Salazar strained every sense he had as he made his way out of the little village. It was late, but not late enough that he trusted the area to be completely deserted, and there were enough wild creatures, both magical and non-magical, to make letting his guard down an act of sheer stupidity. Three years with Godric, and even longer on his own, had left Salazar reasonably confident in his ability to defend himself, or at least to hold off any attacker long enough to escape, but he hadn't lived this long by being over-confident.

If Godric had let his own formidable skill go to his head Salazar was going to jinx him.

Salazar sighed. Godric wasn't stupid, as much as Salazar often complained otherwise. And if Salazar's suspicions about just who he had been meeting were accurate then he certainly wouldn't have gone in recklessly.

Salazar slipped his wand from its holster. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

Godric had eventually told him that the meeting would take place at the edge of the nearby forest, and Salazar headed warily for the dark expanse of trees. He couldn't see anyone, or sense them, but the trees were thick enough to make an ambush all too easy. An owl hooted overhead, and Salazar just about kept his wand from twitching. He moved forwards, using all the stealth he had gathered over the years so that even with his bad leg he made little more noise than the now much more timid field mice, until he reached the forest edge.

Once under the trees Salazar paused. There was no sign of any disturbance, which was both a good thing and a bad thing. Godric wasn't exactly the most subtle of duelists, and if he'd been attacked then there would have been traces. The surrounding trees were completely unmarked.

So either there hadn't been any incident and he was worrying for no reason, or Godric hadn't had a chance to retaliate.

Salazar chewed on his bottom lip. Maybe he was overreacting. Godric could take care of himself, and there was no evidence to suggest that anything had happened. On the other hand, he was very late, and Godric was never late. At the very least, he would have sent Salazar some sort of warning. He always did, ever since they had started traveling together and he wanted to keep Salazar from attempting to slip away while he was gone. Not that he ever seriously considered such a thing.

Salazar shook his head sharply. Reminiscing could wait. Maybe Godric was fine, but Salazar clearly wasn't going to get any peace until he knew for sure.

Unfortunately, that still left the question of how to find him.

Salazar leaned his staff against a tree and eased himself down. The chance of this actually working was practically nothing, but he had to try. He closed his eyes, and concentrated on his breathing. He took his anger and frustration and rising concern and recognized them and put them to one side. Emotion would only cloud his efforts. He let out a slow, steady breath and stretched out his senses.

The chill wind was cutting through his cloak again, and a root was digging uncomfortably into his leg. An owl, maybe the same one from before, dived with a triumphant shriek, and there was a sudden scurrying of small rodents for cover. From further afield came the gurgling of a stream. Nothing out of the ordinary, so Salazar concentrated on his other senses. He had always been sensitive to magic, and over the past few years he'd honed those skills as much as he could and they had saved his life more times than he could count.

Something sparked at the edge of his awareness and Salazar's eyes snapped open.

It had been faint. Almost imperceptible really, and even now Salazar wasn't completely sure he hadn't imagined it, but it wasn't like he had many other options. He pushed himself upright with a grunt of effort, and took up his staff again. Wand in hand, he set off in the direction of the flicker of magic.

Salazar picked his way carefully through the shadows. Branches tugged at his clothes, and only wary feeling ahead with his staff kept him from tripping over tangled roots, but each time he checked the magic was stronger. He kept his heading, but with each step his apprehension rose. It was late for anyone to be out in the woods, and try as he might Salazar couldn't think of anything special about the time or place that would necessitate such a trip. Every instinct he had was telling him that something was wrong, and he moved as quickly as he could without attracting any attention.

It was ironic really. Before Godric, Salazar had been quite happy to stay out of other people's business, especially if he thought they were up to something. Now it seemed he couldn't get rid of the impulse even when Godric wasn't around.

A flicker of firelight caught Salazar's eye through the trees and he came to a halt. He could hear voices now, several of them, but though he strained he couldn't quite make out the words.

What he could detect though, was the sharp bite of Dark magic.

Salazar's grip tightened on his staff, and he just about bit back a curse. He was going to kill Godric. If he had known this was what the meeting had been about he never would have let his friend go alone. And Godric thought he was the one who needed to be kept out of trouble.

Salazar forced his anger and guilt to one side. There would be time enough for that later. He eased his way towards the fire, keeping every sense strained for magical protections, but the area was clear. That was foolish. Salazar made his way to the edge of firelight and took in the scene.

There were four figures, hooded and cloaked huddled around the fire, and Salazar resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had never had the patience for this degree of theatre. None of them were paying any attention to their surroundings, but were instead watching something on the other side of the fire with clear amusement. Salazar followed their gaze, and everything seemed to stop.

Godric lay bound and gagged on the forest floor. His eyes were closed, and Salazar couldn't see if he was even breathing but he could see blood staining his friend's clothing, and sharp smirks on the faces of the two men standing over him.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Salazar wrenched himself under control. That wouldn't help; he couldn't control the storm and conduct a rescue at the same time. He had to get himself under control.

But Godric wasn't moving, and Salazar was shaking so hard he could barely breathe, and control seemed a very, very long way away. Salazar closed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate on his breathing. If he went out of control, if he went in without thinking Godric would be killed. That was not acceptable.

There was a harsh laugh and quick exchange, and Salazar scowled. The language sounded Germanic, and though the odd word sounded vaguely familiar to Salazar's ears it wasn't a dialect he had ever learned.

Not that it really mattered. He wasn't going to be asking for their surrender.

Salazar let out a deep breath and opened his eyes. Six against one wasn't good odds, but none of them looked like they were expecting an attack. It looked like they hadn't realized Godric had a traveling partner, or if they had they hadn't expected Salazar to come after them this soon, let alone find them.

Salazar briefly contemplated what would have happened if he had decided to just go to bed, and had to swallow back bile.

Enough. He would succeed. Any other outcome was unthinkable.

Salazar studied the scene again. No one was on guard, but he was still badly outnumbered. Godric might have been able to take six in a fair fight, but Salazar certainly wasn't that good.

But then, Salazar had never thought much of fair fights.

He watched for a minute more. He would only get one chance, and every movement and every spell would have to be perfect. He worked out angles and vantage points until everything was firmly fixed in his mind. Hopefully it would be enough.

One of them men standing over Godric laughed again, and Salazar's grip tightened. It looked like he had his first target. He let out a breath and raised his wand.

Red light burst from his wand, but Salazar didn't wait to see it land. He Apparated, sent another spell and disappeared again. He reappeared on the other side of the fire the same moment his first spell hit and the camp erupted into chaos. Two spells shot in his direction, but Salazar had already fired and Disapparated again. He reappeared behind his attackers, and Stunned both from behind before they could recover.

His instincts screamed at him, and Salazar spun, throwing up a shield at the same moment.

The curses dissipated harmlessly against his shield, and he took stock of the two figures, one male and one female, facing him. The man was bleeding heavily from one leg, and Salazar noted with a frown that he'd missed the artery he had been aiming for. That was something he would have to work on. A quick glance confirmed that the rest of them were either dead or incapacitated, and he focused on his remaining

Both were staring at him with wide eyes. Salazar supposed he couldn't blame them. Less than a minute ago, they'd had four other people for reinforcements. He could see their wands shaking, and smell their fear in the air, and he let his mouth curve into a smirk.

Godric would have broken their wands, and let them go free. Godric was a good man. He didn't kill unless he had to.

Godric might be dead, and Salazar wasn't a good man.

The woman started to say something, but broke off with a yell as she frantically blocked Salazar's curse. The man tried to attack, but a rapid Trip Jinx sent him stumbling, and he screamed as Salazar's next curse shattered his wrist. He fell to the ground, and the woman launched herself at Salazar with a roar of rage. Salazar fell back under the ferocity of the assault, and he gritted his teeth as his leg throbbed.

"I don't have time for this," he ground out.

If the woman didn't understand him, the expression on his face seemed clear enough. She tried again, but Salazar was faster. She was thrown back through the air and his the ground with a thud. She didn't get up.

Salazar paused just long enough to make sure that nobody else was getting up, before Apparating directly to Godric's side.

"Godric?"

Godric had looked bad from the other side of the fire. Close up…

Salazar laid a trembling hand against Godric's clammy forehead and swallowed. He could see Godric's chest rising, but his breathing sounded harsh and pained, and he still hadn't opened his eyes. Blood from a gash on his temple stained his hair, and Salazar could see blood at his side and arm as well. Shivers of pain, cold or both wracked his body, and Salazar again found himself swallowing down bile. He untied the gag as gently as he could, and rested a trembling hand on Godric's shoulder.

"Godric, I need you to open your eyes." Godric didn't move, and Salazar couldn't stop some of his desperation from entering his voice. "Godric, please look at me."

For a long moment there was no response, then Godric's eyelids flickered.

"…'zar?"

Salazar had to sit down as relief left him light-headed. "I'm here," he managed. "You're safe."

Bleary green eyes tried and failed to focus on him, and Salazar swallowed. "It's all right," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

Godric managed a faint nod, and slumped against him. Salazar closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment to just hold his friend. Godric was alive, and he was breathing and talking, and he would recover. He would be all right.

But lying around here wasn't going to help. Salazar shook his head and forced himself to move. It took him a couple of attempts to cut Godric's bonds, his hands were still shaking hard enough that holding the knife steady was an effort, but his friend was soon free and wrapped tightly in Salazar's cloak. Godric didn't stir throughout the process, and Salazar found his concern rising rapidly. His friend had lost more blood than was healthy, and spending a few hours out in the cold had been the last thing he'd needed. Add to that whatever they had done to knock him out so thoroughly, and Salazar was regretting being so gentle with his captors.

"All right," he said softly. "I'm going to Apparate us back. I'll be as gentle as I can."

Godric remained still and silent. Salazar swallowed back another rush of fear, gripped Godric's arm tightly, and Apparated them back to their room.

It was the work of a moment to levitate Godric into his bed, and retrieve the blankets. Salazar studied him for a moment, then stripped his own bed bare as well, and dug out their spare cloaks. The extra layers seemed to help, but Godric continued to shiver and Salazar bowed to the inevitable.

"Incendio," he whispered.

Flames erupted into life in the fireplace, and the room was filled with warm orange light. Salazar gritted his teeth and dived into his bag in search of his potions. It looked like he'd be seeing just how good his medical skills had gotten.

Treating Godric was not pleasant. Salazar did what he could for the long lacerations, but they had learned the hard way that healing spells became more difficult the more one cared about the patient. The sight of the thick red scars set Salazar's stomach churning again, but he forced it down. Godric needed him more than he needed revenge.

For now, at least.

Finally, Salazar stood back and considered his handiwork. Godric's visible injuries had been treated and he had stopped shivering, and while he was still very pale he was resting more easily, and Salazar let some of the tension drain from his body. Godric would be all right. He was strong, and he would recover.

Well, he would if he got the chance. Salazar pushed his own weariness to one side, and began to draw up wards around the bed, the room, and the tavern itself. Nothing was going to touch Godric again.

Unfortunately that much magic on top of everything left its toll. By the time he finished the sun was creeping over the horizon and Salazar couldn't do anything more than slump into a chair. His leg was throbbing and he massaged it absently, but Godric was safe.

"And you tell me I should sleep more."

Salazar nearly fell off his chair. "Godric!" He scrambled to his friend's side, exhaustion forgotten. "Are you all right?"

Godric's bruised face split into a faint smile. "I will be." He paused, brows furrowing. "What happened?"

And, just like that, Salazar was once again so angry he could barely see straight. "Let's see," he ground out. "First you went to meet with a bunch of Dark wizards, without telling me they were Dark wizards, where you were meeting, or what they wanted."

"Salazar-"

"Then said wizards ambushed and captured you so that they could torture you."

"Sal-"

"And by the time I found you they'd been going for God knows how long and they would have killed you if I hadn't found you, and you were hurt badly enough that you've slept for hours and you could have died-"

"Salazar!" Godric interrupted. "I'm all right."

Salazar stared at him. "You nearly weren't," he whispered.

Godric swallowed and looked away. "I know. I'm sorry." His already ashen face somehow managed to pale further, and the last of Salazar's anger faded. He sat back in the chair and rested his chin on his fingertips.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

Godric gave a soft snort then grunted as he tried to shift position. "Because - ah - I knew how you would react."

"Damn right," Salazar hissed. "Going to meet Dark wizards, alone and without support? What were you thinking?"

"I couldn't risk scaring them off," Godric explained. "If they had seen anyone else-"

"But why meet them at all?" Salazar demanded. It was the one thing he couldn't understand. Godric knew better than to walk into such an obvious trap. Godric sighed and rested his head back against the pillow.

"They told me they regretted their past," he whispered. "That they understood that their old masters had been evil, and wanted to change their own ways."

"And you believed them?" said Salazar incredulously. "What were the chances that they would turn on all their beliefs?"

Godric just looked at him. "Hope has served me well in the past," he said softly.

Salazar opened his mouth, then closed it again. He pushed himself upright, suddenly unable to sit still, and walked over to the window. He stared out at the rising sun, and shook his head. How had they ever come to this?

"Salazar."

Moving felt like an incredible effort, but Salazar glanced round. Godric had propped himself up on one elbow, and while he still looked dreadful he met Salazar's gaze steadily.

"I've done a lot of things I regret," he said softly. "I know I've made a lot of mistakes. But when it comes to those choices, I wouldn't change a thing."

Salazar's eyes were stinging. He had clearly been awake too long. He rubbed them angrily and sat back on the chair. "You are an idiot," he said. "A complete and utter idiot."

Godric smiled, a proper one that lit up the whole room. "I love you too."

Salazar scowled, and picked at the rough wool blanket. "Shut up and go to sleep, Godric. You look like hell."

Godric's smile widened, and he settled back against the pillows. "Yes, sir." Salazar scowled harder, and he held up a hand. "All right, all right."

"Good," Salazar muttered. Maybe now he'd finally get some peace.

"Salazar?"

What was he thinking? "Yes, Godric?"

Godric blinked sleepy green eyes up at him. "Thank you for coming after me."

Salazar had to swallow past the lump in his throat before he could reply. "Always."

Godric smiled, closed his eyes, and was asleep within seconds.

Salazar waited until he was sure Godric was fully asleep before letting out a long sigh. Well. There was no doubt about it. He had somehow chosen to befriend the most infuriating, stubborn, reckless, brilliant idiot on the entire continent.

Or had Godric chosen him?

It didn't matter. He'd never admit to a single soul, but Salazar wouldn't change his decisions over the past few years either.

Except maybe some from the last day or so.

Salazar gripped his staff and glanced at Godric. His friend would be fine for a few minutes, and a few minutes were all he'd need. He stood silently, and left the room with a faint crack.

Salazar never felt the need to give Godric all the details, and if Godric saw the bloodstains on his cloak that evening he never mentioned it. They were who they were, and they were both perfectly fine with that.

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 **Any feedback would be very much appreciated.**


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